


All Those Shattered Dreams

by CrimsonQuills



Series: Knowing [3]
Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Loss of Virginity, M/M, Politics, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonQuills/pseuds/CrimsonQuills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The two fics preceding this one were inspired by a song. They aren't song fics -- no lyrics appear -- but the song was the spark that ignited the muse. Personally, I think those two (and thus the series) benefit from reading the song first. The title of it is "Arms Around My Life" and it's by Janis Ian. Unfortunately, it's only available on a collection of her unreleased songs which is very difficult to find. But you can get the lyrics here: <a href="http://www.janisian.com/lyrics/armsaroundmylife.php">http://www.janisian.com/lyrics/armsaroundmylife.php</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	All Those Shattered Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> The two fics preceding this one were inspired by a song. They aren't song fics -- no lyrics appear -- but the song was the spark that ignited the muse. Personally, I think those two (and thus the series) benefit from reading the song first. The title of it is "Arms Around My Life" and it's by Janis Ian. Unfortunately, it's only available on a collection of her unreleased songs which is very difficult to find. But you can get the lyrics here: <http://www.janisian.com/lyrics/armsaroundmylife.php>

Sheridan looked around the security office and sighed. He'd hoped to keep the invasion of Marcus's privacy to a minimum, but everyone there had a perfectly legitimate reason. Garibaldi, aside from being the chief of security, was understandably irked by the pair of Minbari warriors barring anyone from entering the Ranger's quarters.

As Entil'Zha, Delenn was responsible for Marcus. That burden was only made heavier by the fact that it had been her who had insisted that shooting the guards and forcing their way in would only create an irreparable rift between Anla'Shoc and Warriors. Particularly if it turned out that Marcus was in no danger. 

Franklin had reasoned that if Marcus _was_ in trouble, he'd need to know the nature of it as soon as possible. As for Ivanova...well, Susan was stubborn. And trying to keep her out of it would only cause more trouble later. 

"Alright," Sheridan said briskly, "Let's get this done." 

"Here we go," Garibaldi muttered, fingers flying over the keyboard of the security station's computer. One of the monitoring screens went black. A moment later it flickered to life with an image from a little-used camera. Marcus's quarters. 

For a moment everyone just stared. The camera gave them a bird's eye view of Marcus and Neroon curled together on Marcus's Minbari style platform. A thin sheet covered them, but the clothes scattered across the floor of the room removed any doubt that they were naked. 

Sheridan tried to speak, but shock choked the words off. Predictably, Garibaldi recovered first. "Well," he said, "I guess we didn't need to worry about them killing each other." 

The comment broke the others' paralysis. Franklin's lips tightened for a moment before he turned away. "I'll be in MedLab if I'm needed." As he left he cast a last glance at the screen, as if to check that he'd seen right the first time. 

The captain looked after him, concerned, but let him go. "Michael," he said, "I think you can turn that off now." Garibaldi obligingly struck a key and the screen went black. 

"This is bad," Delenn said, frowning. "This is very bad." 

"Why?" John asked, startled. "I admit I'm surprised, but Marcus's personal life is his own." 

"If he had chosen anyone else as his lover, perhaps it would be so," Delenn allowed. "But Neroon is a clan leader of the Warrior Caste. He was Satai, as I was. And he has arrayed himself against us from the beginning. We cannot trust him, John." 

"Not to mention that he threatened to kill you," Sheridan said dryly. "But we _can_ trust Marcus." 

Delenn cast an uncertain glance at the darkened monitor. "I'm not so sure." 

"Delenn-" Sheridan began, then stopped and bowed his head for a moment. "Not here." He moved from the room, stopping at the door to gesture for her to precede him. 

The door whuffed shut. Garibaldi and Ivanova traded a glance. He switched the monitor back on and they sat and watched the quiet tableau for a while. Marcus and Neroon still lay entwined, though they'd shifted position a little. 

"Whether or not you approve," Garibaldi said, "you have to admit that that is one weird sight." 

"You have no idea," Ivanova muttered. So far as she knew Marcus hadn't told anyone else about his lack of...experience. Not that he'd acted like it was a secret when he told her, but she'd been careful to respect his privacy regardless. 

"So do you?" Garibaldi asked. 

"Do I what?" 

"Approve." 

Ivanova shifted uncomfortably. "Marcus's personal life really isn't any of my business." 

"Really." Garibaldi cocked an eyebrow at the scene on the monitor. "I got the impression he was interested in _you_." 

"He was. Emphasis on the past tense. I made it clear the interest wasn't returned." 

"Well, he went about as far in the other direction as could," Garibaldi chuckled. 

Susan shook her head. "Don't mistake this for some kind of rebound," she said. "Trust me when I say that Marcus wouldn't sleep with someone if he wasn't sure." 

"Sure of what?" Garibaldi asked skeptically. "He's a guy like the rest of us." 

Not quite, Ivanova thought. "Sure it was right," she said aloud. 

"Oh, come on, Ivanova," he protested, "Marcus isn't some blushing virgin." 

Susan sighed. "Well, not blushing, anyway." 

Garibaldi's eyes went wide. "You mean--" He turned and took another long look at the screen. "Damn." 

*** 

Marcus emerged from sleep slowly. For a long time he was aware only of warmth. His consciousness gradually focused and, for the first time in his life, his first action upon waking was not to reach for someone who wasn't there. He didn't have to reach -- his arms were already gloriously full of Neroon. 

Eyes still closed, Marcus smiled and took a deep breath, inhaling his lover's scent with a true visceral pleasure. Opening his eyes, he found Neroon looking at him with amusement. "Do you always take such pleasure in waking?" the Warrior asked, reaching out to touch Marcus's cheek. 

"Actually," Marcus answered, his voice still rough with sleep, "normally I hate it. I am definitely not a morning person. But you have to admit," his smile broadened, "this morning is rather different than usual." 

"Indeed," Neroon murmured, and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. 

Marcus let himself enjoy the caress for a long moment, but eventually he had to pull away to asked a question. "How long were you watching me, anyway?" 

Neroon's brow wrinkled. "Does it bother you?" 

"Not precisely," Marcus said, suddenly reluctant. "I just...don't see that there's much to watch." 

Neroon slid an arm around Marcus and pulled him closer, though they were already twined so tightly that the effect was more like a hug than anything else. "Ah, Marcus," he sighed, smiling. "You cannot know how beautiful you are." 

But the Ranger frowned, still doubting. "Am I? Granted, I've noticed a few ladies casting an appreciative glance my way, but you're neither female nor human--" 

Neroon cut him off with a quick, hard kiss that left them both a little breathless and a little aroused. "Do you still doubt my attraction?" he challenged. Marcus responded with a slightly dazed hmm. Neroon just chuckled and waited for his lover to refocus. "I know that I'm not either female or human, Marcus. Neither are you female or Minbari, but when I look at you I see everything I have ever desired." His expression turned deadly serious. "When I hold you everything feels _right_ in a way I have never experienced before. You are my mate in a way no other could ever be." 

A swell of desire bloomed in Marcus. A part of him delighted in the novelty of actually acting on the feeling even as he kissed Neroon breathless. By the time they came up for air Neroon had pinned Marcus between himself and the tilted platform. The thin blanket, dislodged by the movement, slid to the floor, but neither of them cared. 

"I've never made love half-standing up before," Marcus said, grinning. 

Neroon laughed. "It is my considerable pleasure," he said huskily, emphasizing the point with a roll of his hips, "to broaden your experience." 

Looking heatedly into Neroon's eyes, Marcus ran both hands up and down the Warrior's back, lightly enough to bring his skin to tingling sensitivity. "Well?" 

In response, Neroon leaned in and rubbed his cheek along Marcus's, apparently enjoying the roughness of his beard. One of Neroon's hands curled over Marcus's hip, his thumb rubbing a small circle around the point of the pelvic bone. Eyes half lidded, Marcus marveled at how such an ordinary spot could turn into such a bright point of pleasure. 

He was so distracted, he almost missed Neroon's whisper. "Why do I get the feeling," the Warrior murmured, "I'm going to have a hard time keeping up with you?" 

Marcus gasped as Neroon let a hot breath wash over his ear and then moaned when his earlobe was taken between Neroon's lips and gently suckled. "I..ahh...I _do_ have twenty years of celibacy to make up for," he managed. Neroon released his ear and began trailing kissed down over his collarbone. "But somehow...I don't think you'll...ahh!" Neroon bit down a little on the nipple he held between his teeth. 

Throwing his head back, Marcus arched his body, grinding his groin against Neroon's taut belly. In the moment when Neroon switched his attention to the other nipple Marcus managed to scrape together enough coherent thought to slide one of his thighs between Neroon's. Marcus bent his leg enough to give Neroon's hardness a good, long rub and was gratified by the shudder that shook the Warrior. After that, any sort of coherent thought slipped out of reach. 

The next time Marcus managed an actual thought, it was 'why did he stop?' Neroon was crouched down, chin resting on Marcus's upper thigh, eyes half closed. Marcus suddenly realized he was gripping the sides of his lover's head, fingers splayed among the points and ridges of his bonecrest. Feeling a little ridiculous, Marcus let go and let his fingers brush Neroon's shoulders. 

"Neroon? Is something wrong?" 

"No." The Warrior stood, leaving Marcus momentarily cold for lack of his touch. But only momentarily. Moments later leaned in against, pressing the full length of their bodies together. "But I must ask you something." 

"Anything." 

Neroon combed his fingers through Marcus's hair. "I would like," he said and met Marcus's eyes, "very much to be inside you. But I do not wish to push you for something you are not ready to give." 

For a moment Marcus's mind was overwhelmed with an image of them pressed back to front, held up by the tilted platform, Neroon sunk deep inside him. The resulting wave of desire felt almost feverish. He gave himself a mental shake. _What are you doing fantasizing when you've got the real thing right here?_

Neroon was actually looking uncertain. Well, that could be fixed. "Yes," Marcus said firmly. The Warrior blinked. Marcus smiled at him and began stroking his hands up and down Neroon's back again. "I may be new to this, Neroon," he said, "but I do know what I want. And I want you. Very much." 

Eyes darkening in desire, Neroon claimed a quick kiss. "We will need some sort of oil." 

"Bathroom," Marcus told him. Neroon was gone and back before the Ranger could even start feeling silly about half- standing alone and naked. 

The sight of Neroon, a small bottle in one hand, approaching with intent should probably have been at least vaguely threatening. Though he and Marcus were the same height, Neroon's musculature could have been carved from granite and the spikes of his bonecrest were viscerally aggressive. But as Neroon ran a purely anticipatory gaze over him, Marcus only felt _wanted_. 

Neroon descended on him with a rousing kiss, as if to regain any ground lost in the brief but necessary trip to the washroom. Marcus thrust eagerly against him, a silent affirmation of desire. By the time they pulled apart they were both breathless again. "This would be easiest," Neroon said breathlessly, "if you turn around. However, if you prefer face to face..." 

A moment out of Marcus's earlier fantasy flickered through his mind. He swallowed a moan. "I think, under the circumstances, easiest is best." He grinned. "They'll be plenty of opportunity later for variations on the theme." 

"You," Neroon growled, sending a hot rush of lust through Marcus, "are still _far_ too articulate." He firmly turned Marcus face down on the steep slope of the platform. The Ranger had only a moment to register the oddly stimulating pressure of the firm platform against his hardness. Then his senses were captured by the hot, wet stripe Neroon licked from his tailbone to his neck. 

Marcus moaned deeply, fingers scrabbling at the smooth surface of the platform. Neroon laced the fingers of one hand with Marcus's giving him something to hold onto. His other hand, slick with oil, parted the cheeks of Marcus's ass and stroked slowly over the opening there. Gasping, Marcus found himself lifting his hips towards the gentle pressure. 

Over his shoulder, Neroon chuckled softly and teased the ring of muscle with tiny strokes. "Somehow, I expected you to be more nervous," he murmured and nibbled at his lover's neck. 

"You think I--ah!" Marcus closed his eyes and bit his lip slightly as Neroon sank a fingertip inside him. Determined, Marcus struggled to recover the sentence. "-- haven't been imaging this--oh, God, Neroon..." The Ranger let his forehead fall against the platform, one hand clenched around Neroon's, body trembling with spikes of pleasure. Neroon had thrust deeper. 

Struggling to control his own reactions, Neroon began stroking slowly in and out of Marcus. His responses were intoxicating. Every time Neroon pushed within Marcus' would catch his breath and every time he withdrew a long, gravelly moan followed. 

Marcus writhed beneath Neroon's touch. His whole world had narrowed down to the hand he held tightly in his and the slick motion of Neroon's hand. "Neroon," he moaned low in his throat, dragging out the last syllable into a breathless pant. 

"Relax, my mate," Neroon breathed. A moment later the rhythm of his thrusting finger paused. Marcus caught his breath as two finger eased inside him. "Relax," Neroon repeated, and trailed soft kisses across the back of Marcus's neck. 

Letting out a long, slow breath, Marcus let the tension ease out of him. Neroon's fingers immediately pressed deeper. "Oh, yes," Marcus hissed back arching a little as he lifted his hips. "That's, God, that's good..." 

Neroon trailed his lips over Marcus's should, occasionally flicking out his tongue to taste the sweat beaded there. "If this is merely good," he said softly, "I don't know if I'll last long enough to be inside you." 

"Then move faster," Marcus gasped, spreading his thighs a little. 

It was all Neroon could do not to seize those beautiful hips and sink into his mate. "How you tempt me," he choked out, but managed to restrain himself to adding a third finger. 

Marcus froze this time, clearly a little uncomfortable. "Give me...a second," he asked, though Neroon had frozen as well. After a moment Marcus's breath evened out and reluctant muscles relaxed. "Okay," he murmured, "I'm good now," and thrust back a little for emphasis. 

Still, Neroon waited a moment before resuming his earlier rhythm. He wished briefly that he could use his other hand for soothing strokes, but Marcus was holding it in what amounted to a death grip. The Warrior settled for soft murmurs and slow, wet kisses to the skin of Marcus's neck, shoulders, and ears. 

"Neroon?" Marcus gasped. "I'm...close and I want you..." He sobbed and shuddered in pleasure as Neroon briefly brushed past his prostate. So far the Minbari had made no attempt to touch the little nub. Was he waiting, Marcus wondered, or did he just not know it was there? 

Neroon withdrew his fingers from Marcus's body and laid his hand in the small of his back when Marcus whimpered in protest. "Patience," Neroon chuckled, though his own hands were trembling with eagerness, as he slicked himself with oil. 

"Now," Marcus demanded in response. 

Neroon laughed, but moved to cover Marcus's body with his own. "As you wish," he whispered into Marcus's ear. The only response was a choked moan of desire. 

Marcus's body was on fire with pleasure. The warm weight of Neroon's body pressing all along seemed to have sparked every nerve ending. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Awash in the sensations, he almost forgot what was to come. 

Then he was being spread open, his mate sinking inside him. Marcus groaned in ecstasy; if there was any pain at all it was nothing more than a slight burn, lost in a thousand other pleasures. "Love you," Marcus cried. "Oh, love you...Neroon..." 

Neroon, trembling with the effort it took to hold still, to give Marcus a moment, broke. "Marcus," he gasped with need, and began to move. 

The long buildup to the this moment, the tight heat of Marcus's body beneath him, and the words that spilled from Marcus's lips all conspired to fray Neroon's control to a thread. He began to thrust stronger, deeper into his lover, Marcus's name on his lips time and again. As Neroon plunged deep into the Ranger's grasp, he felt himself brush over a small, firm nub. 

Marcus shouted and drove back hard against Neroon, shaking. The Warrior froze. "Marcus! What was that?" he demanded urgently. 

"Prostate," Marcus managed. "Again. Please." Slowly this time, Neroon repeated the stroke and was rewarded with a sobbing moan. Marcus bucked his hips back against Neroon, a plea for more. 

With Marcus writhing in pleasure beneath him, Neroon knew he would not last much longer. He concentrated on brushing past that wondrous nub inside the Human, hoping to carry Marcus to climax with him. 

Shuddering helplessly, Marcus felt himself growing near completion. After the slow climb to this point, he felt no need to hold back any longer. Instead he let himself go completely. Marcus's body clenched tight around Neroon's, an unexpected sweetness. 

With a wordless shout and one last deep stroke, Neroon spilled himself inside his lover. They lay there for a moment, still joined, trembling with reaction. "Marcus," Neroon sighed, kissing the nape of the Ranger's neck. He withdrew slowly, prompting a sigh from Marcus, and turned to lie on side next to him. 

After a few minutes Marcus rolled to face Neroon and gave him a languid smile. "I'm not sure that was a good idea," he said, though the satiation in his voice belied his words. "Now I'm going to have a devil of a time concentrating all day." 

Neroon smiled. "Do you have to?" he asked suggestively. "Surely you can afford to take a day off." 

But Marcus shook his head. "I have to. Considering how late in the morning it is, I'm surprised we've been left alone this long." Suddenly, Neroon looked almost...guilty. Marcus's eyes narrowed as he remembered the Warriors that had accompanied his lover when he arrived. "Neroon. _Please_ tell me you didn't order your people to guard the door." 

Neroon shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted to make certain we were not interrupted," he explained. 

"Oh, hell," Marcus moaned, rubbing his eyes in dismay. "The captain thinks we're set on _killing_ each other. I'm surprised he didn't just order the guards shot!" 

"He would not," Neroon assured him confidently. "It would be politically unwise." 

"Captain Sheridan hasn't much respect for politics when the lives of his people are at stake," Marcus said dryly. "I imagine Delenn has more than a little to do with this demonstration of restraint." Marcus levered himself off the platform. "I'd better call." 

"Marcus," Neroon inclined his head. "Perhaps you'd better dress first." 

Marcus glanced down at himself and blushed vividly. "And shower," he muttered. "They've waited this long. They can wait _a little_ longer..." 

Freshly showered and dressed in a clean uniform, Marcus stood before his comm unit and pondered whom to call first. Sheridan was responsible for the station, and he took a particular interest in all those officers involved -- officially or otherwise -- in the growing concern of the Shadows. On the other hand, Delenn was Entil'Zha. 

In the end, that was what decided him. He hesitated a moment before activating the comm, uncertain if it would pick up the sound of Neroon taking his own shower. Ah, well. They no doubt knew the Warrior had spent the night here. The guards still at the door were testimony to that. 

Delenn answered his call immediately and in person, rather than through Lennier. Inwardly, Marcus winced at the implication that she'd been waiting for him. "Entil'Zha," he said, attempting a bright smile. With the shower still running in the background, it wasn't all that hard. "I'm sorry if I caused you any concern," an immediate apology could only help, "but I didn't realize Neroon had set guards on my quarters until this morning." 

Strangely, Delenn's worried look didn't abate even after both seeing him well and hearing this explanation. "Marcus," she said, and paused. "When we became concerned John authorized Mr. Garibaldi to activate a security camera in your quarters." 

"Ah." Marcus struggled not to blush. "Um. When?" 

"You were sleeping," she said with an unfamiliar coolness. 

Marcus frowned. "Entil'Zha...is something wrong?" 

"Perhaps. You and I have some things to discuss, Marcus. In person." 

"Of course," he agreed, puzzled. He checked the time quickly. "Shall I come see you at 1130 hours?" 

"Yes," Delenn confirmed. Then she cut the communication rather abruptly. Marcus crossed his arms and stared at the blank comm unit for moment. It wasn't like Delenn to be so...abrupt. Something was wrong. 

The shower shut down and Marcus turned just in time to see Neroon step into the main room, a towel around his hips. Neroon took one look at Marcus and frowned. Marcus took one looked at Neroon and smiled...though perhaps not so freely as before. 

"Marcus," the Warrior said, crossing the room to lay a hand on his lover's shoulder. "You seem upset. Did the call go badly?" 

Now Marcus frowned. "I'm not sure. Delenn already knew we'd become lovers, so at least that hurdle is over and done with." Neroon's eyes widened in surprise. Marcus tried to smile, but nervousness made it come across a little queasy. "Apparently Captain Sheridan tapped into the security cameras in this room when he got worried." 

"They didn't see us--" 

"Just sleeping," Marcus assured him. "What worries me now is how Entil'Zha was...distant. Almost cold. And she cut the call very abruptly." 

Neroon sighed and drew Marcus over to a low bench to sit. "How did you expect them to react?" he asked. 

"I...I had hoped she -- they -- would be happy for me," he said, confused. "I've been alone for so long." 

"Consider how this," Neroon gestured between them, "looks from the perspective of your friends, Marcus. They first encountered me when I came here at the head of a ceremony honoring a Warrior responsible for the deaths of thousands of Humans. Delenn and I first clashed on that occasion. Then I take what they doubtless considered 'her' place on the Grey Council -- tilting the balance toward the Warrior Caste." 

Marcus was listening, wide-eyed. He'd heard none of this before. Neroon went on, pushing back a sliver of anxiety. "You and I met because I threatened the life of a woman you revere. You challenged me to death and I quite deliberately beat you to the point of hospitalization." Here Neroon had to hold up a hand to stave off an interruption. "They do not know what either of us were thinking at that moment. Months pass, during which you slowly heal. 

"Then, just at the moment when it seems you are fully recovered, I appear without any warning. I go straight from the docking bay to your quarters where," and now the Warrior had the grace to look a little guilty, "I post guards to prevent your friends from entering. At this point it looks certain that I was only waiting for you to regain your strength before I returned to...finish the job, as you say." 

"Ah," Marcus said weakly. 

"Hours pass without any word from either of us. Finally they become so concerned that they violate both station regulations and your own privacy. At which point they discover us," Neroon spread his hands, "sleeping. Patently intimate and quite comfortable with the situation, oblivious to their worries." 

Marcus scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. "It does sound rather...sudden, when you put it that way," he admitted. 

"It does not just _sound_ sudden," Neroon countered, "it _is_ sudden." He raised a hand to cup Marcus's cheek, seeking to reassure him that his words were not intended as a withdrawal. "Do you realize that the total amount of time we have spent simply conversing is less than an hour? How much do we truly know about one another?" 

"I know all I need to know," Marcus protested. "I know your heart." He stopped, struggling to find the words. 

"Before we attempt to explain our feelings to anyone," Neroon said, "we must accept that they are largely based on a connection that permits only spiritual explanations." 

Marcus looked into Neroon's eyes and was calmed by the solid, grounded certainty he saw there. "You've thought a lot about this." 

"I've thought of little else in the past months," Neroon confessed. "My crew, particularly my First, had become quite frustrated with me." 

Suddenly it struck Marcus that Neroon was not simply Warrior Caste. He was an _Alit_ of the Warrior Caste and as such was answerable to others beside himself. Marcus's mouth went dry. "How do you think the Caste will react," he asked, unable to keep a hint of the fear out of his voice. 

"I have already spoken to the other clan leaders," Neroon said intently. "They are not pleased, but they recognize my right to choose my mate." 

"And the Caste leader?" 

Neroon smiled wryly. "He has long been of the opinion that I have far too much influence throughout the Caste. Therefore, he supports anything that will undermine my popularity." 

"Will this?" Marcus asked, more concerned than afraid now. 

Neroon's lips thinned. "It most certainly will," he said bluntly. "I expect the Wind Swords to sever ties entirely. Of the others, the Moon Shields and Night Walkers will remain professional but distant. If we have any support, it will be from the Fire Wings." 

"And the rest of the Star Riders?" Marcus's voice was quiet, subdued. 

" _I_ set the tone for the Star Riders," Neroon said firmly. 

Abruptly Marcus stood and took two steps away from the bench before spinning to face Neroon. "Apparently I'm the only one who rushed into this," he snapped. Neroon flinched, but Marcus had closed his eyes. The Ranger took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with _myself_. I just...I never expected my personal life to become so...political." 

"And I never expected to be having this conversation dressed in a towel," Neroon muttered. 

For a moment Marcus just gaped. When Neroon adjusted the slipped towel Marcus couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. It was more than a minute before he managed to calm down enough to register Neroon's seriously irritated expression. 

"I'm sorry," Marcus said, settling himself astride the bench. "Why don't you get dressed." Neroon gave him a last, wary glance before rising and going to gather his still- scattered uniform from the floor of Marcus's quarters. Marcus had to suppress snickers as he watched the proud Minbari Warrior clutching at the small towel. One of them must have slipped free, because Neroon shot a glance over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. 

Then he quite deliberately unwrapped the towel and set it aside. 

By the time Neroon had finished dressing -- unnecessarily slowly, Marcus thought, not that he was going to complain -- he'd very nearly forgotten their conversation. Neroon, when he sat back down, was smirking. 

Marcus took a long moment just to look at his lover. "This is what the rest of my life is going to be like, isn't it?" he said philosophically. "Political tap dancing alternating with domestic bliss." 

"I know this is not what you planned," Neroon said quietly. 

Marcus smiled. "Humans have a saying. Life is what happens while you're making other plans." 

Neroon seemed oddly reluctant to meet his eyes. "It had occurred to me," the Warrior said, "that you might reconsider the relationship once you came to understood the changes it would demand." 

Marcus's heart clenched. He leaned over and kissed Neroon slowly and lightly. When they parted he was careful to hold Neroon's gaze. "I love you," Marcus said firmly. "I want to be a part of your life. I want you to be a part of mine. Believe me when I tell you that there is very little I would regret leaving behind." 

"And the Rangers?" 

Marcus hesitated. "That's a decision I'm still hoping I won't have to make," he admitted. 

Neroon shook his head. "It doesn't seem right for me to ask you to give up everything when I have not offered to surrender anything." 

"This isn't a contest," Marcus said dryly. "Besides which, I don't consider the regard of the Caste to be an insignificant sacrifice." 

"They'll see soon enough that I am right," Neroon said confidently. 

Marcus frowned. "I wish I could say the same of Delenn. Speaking of which, I have to meet her in a few minutes. Which means I'd best head out now." 

"Do you want me to come with you?" Neroon asked. 

"I hate to ask you to just wait for me," Marcus said, "but I really don't think it would be a good idea for her to see you right now." 

"Nor for her to see us together," the Warrior suggested. "It doesn't matter. I will use the comm here to contact the _Ingata_. My First will be waiting on orders. And my crew," his eyes twinkled for a moment, "will be waiting on gossip." 

Marcus laughed a little as he stood. "I _will_ be back," he promised as before he left. 

Outside of his quarters Marcus nodded to the guards still posted there. He had to fight down a blush at the thought that they most likely knew what had happened the previous night...and that morning. Taking a deep breath to settle himself, he set off down the hallway. 

When he rounded the first corner past his quarters he almost ran into Susan Ivanova. "Susan!" he exclaimed, startled. She was looking at him oddly. "I was just on my way to see Delenn." 

"I thought you might be," she said, turning to walk with him. "I've been lurking here for over an hour, waiting for you, you know." 

"Waiting? Why?" Marcus was beginning to get a sinking feeling. It was bad enough that Delenn seemed upset with him. For Susan to be the first person he ran into this morning just seemed to be bad karma. 

"I wanted to warn you. When the Captain had Garibaldi tap into the security cameras last night she was...not pleased with what we saw." Marcus winced and added the Captain and security chief to the mental tally he was keeping. He glanced over at Susan, but she didn't seem particularly upset. 

"She was...distant when I spoke to her on the comm this morning," Marcus admitted. 

Ivanova halted Marcus with a touch on his elbow and smiled at him. "Marcus. If you're worrying about me, stop." 

He took a deep breath. "I thought--" 

"You thought," she interrupted, "that because you were interested in me I might feel snubbed that you'd run off with Neroon." Marcus looked faintly stricken. Ivanova just shook her head. "You were looking for someone specific. I always knew I wasn't that person. If I had been, we'd _both_ have known it." 

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thank you. For the warning and the support, both. I know this must have come out of nowhere for you." 

"Well...not entirely," Ivanova said, grinning a little. 

Marcus narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean?" 

"I know everything that happens on this station, Marcus," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you think I'd forgotten what you said when I first visited you in MedLab?" Marcus remembered how she'd known he was packing to leave Babylon 5 when the _Ingata_ had shown up. "Well," Susan went on, "I think some thinking after that. And I kept an eye on you. Considering that you challenged Neroon solely to protect Ambassador Delenn, it didn't seem to make sense that you'd want to chase after him to 'finish the job', as the Captain put it. The job _was_ finished. So no, it didn't come _entirely_ out of nowhere." She paused. "But I didn't expect you to jump into bed with him quite to quickly. Did you even talk first?" 

"Oh, God," Marcus muttered, embarrassed, and started walking again. 

"You didn't, did you?" Susan obviously amused. 

"We talked!" Marcus hissed, though there was no one around to hear. "A little." 

"Just couldn't wait anymore, could you?" Susan teased. "Just said hello and jumped right into bed." 

Marcus finally surrendered to the blush he'd been fighting. "We, ah, didn't make it quite that far," he said, a smile curving his lips. Any response Ivanova might have made was preempted by their arrival outside Delenn's quarters. Instead she smiled and wished him luck before moving on. 

Taking a moment to gather himself before ringing the bell, Marcus felt a flash of regret that Delenn seemed to have become his opponent. Well, hopefully it was a strictly temporary situation. Surely once he explained... He rang the bell. 

The door whooshed open. Lennier bowed to Marcus as he stepped into the Ambassador's quarters. Then the aide stepped past him and into the hall, apparently to let them speak alone. Marcus glanced after the young Minbari and couldn't help wondering what he thought of...everything. 

"Marcus," Delenn said, perhaps a little more warmly than she had sounded on the comm. 

"Entil'Zha," Marcus said formally. 

"Please sit," she gestured to a couch. Marcus settled himself, waiting to see the tone she would set for this chat. Delenn sat as well and took a moment to compose herself before she caught his gaze. "First, I must confirm one thing," she said firmly. Marcus nodded. "Am I correct in assuming Neroon claimed you as his lover last night?" 

Something about the wording there was strange. Marcus tilted his head and answered carefully. "We became lovers, yes. The claiming, however, was quite mutual." 

"Marcus," Delenn said, her tone oddly sympathetic, "I suspect you have not thought this relationship through carefully." 

Coming of the heels of his discussion with Neroon, that stung, but Marcus was careful not to let it show. "With respect, Entil'Zha, I am quite certain of what I feel." 

"Are you? You cannot claim to know Neroon particularly well. You have hardly met him." 

"I beg to differ," Marcus said, feeling himself on slightly firmer ground. "I know that he is a deeply honorable man. I know that, until recently, he had very little respect for Humanity. I know that when he found his perceptions of Humans -- and Rangers -- challenged, he was strong enough and wise enough to admit his own error." Marcus smiled slightly. "I know that he is stubborn and arrogant and very determined to have things the way he wants them." 

Delenn was looking a little taken aback. Marcus pushed his advantage. "I also know that from the first moment I saw him I'd found something I'd been missing my whole life. Delenn, I know that the Minbari believe that some souls travel together. I'm telling you, my soul and Neroon's have walked together before." 

"That may be," Delenn said, but Marcus could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him. He let her speak regardless. She had, after all, done him the same courtesy. "But in this time and place, I am not sure that it is wise to pursue to the relationship." 

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "In this time and place, Entil'Zha? With the Shadows preparing to return, it seems to me that anything that could form a bridge between the Anla'Shoc and the Warrior Caste would be a good thing." 

"A bridge can be walked in both directions, Marcus," Delenn said. Then, almost hesitantly, "Has it occurred to you that Neroon may use this relationship to influence the Anla'Shoc towards his own ends?" 

Marcus's mind raced as he worked to keep up with Delenn's insinuations. "I expect he will," the Ranger said evenly, "just as I will certainly try to influence the Warrior Caste toward Anla'Shoc goals. But if you are suggesting that that is his only reason for becoming involved with me--" 

Delenn's expression was all sympathy. "Neroon's behavior over the past day _is_ extremely out of character. I strongly suspect he is taking advantage of something he saw in you during the denn'sha." 

"Are you suggesting Neroon is lying to me?" Marcus asked sharply. 

Delenn hesitated. "I cannot say, without knowing what he has told you." 

Marcus opened his mouth to respond...and froze. Neroon had been very passionate. He had been a little possessive as well. But he had never told Marcus he loved him. Not in so many words, though Marcus had been certain he felt it. 

"Marcus," Delenn said gently, "I know this hurts, but none of us can afford to act blindly. There is too much at stake." 

_Blindly?_ Marcus thought. _I thought I was seeing clearly for the first time in my life._ "Entil'Zha," he said haltingly. "I...You have counseled me so many times to let go of my pain, my past. Now that I am trying...why are you dragging me back?" 

Some emotion flickered in Delenn's eyes, but it was gone too fast for Marcus to identify it. "I don't mean to hold you back from healing," she said sincerely. "Please. Keep trying. I am here for you if you need help." 

Marcus felt oddly nauseous, as if his life was warping around him. Everything felt slightly out of kilter. He stood and almost stumbled. "I need to...think," he said weakly. 

"Of course." Delenn rose with him and walked him to the door of her quarters. "You don't seem well, Marcus. Should I call Dr. Franklin?" 

"No," he waved the offer off even as he swallowed convulsively. "I'm just a little off balance." 

"I'm concerned for you," Delenn said. "Are you certain you should be alone?" 

"I'll be fine," Marcus snapped, a little more sharply than he intended. Delenn actually flinched, but he hardly noticed. Instead he headed blindly back towards his quarters. Someone called his name as he all but stumbled down the hall, but he didn't hear them, intent only on gaining the only sanctuary he had. 

Until the door hissed open and he saw Neroon standing at the comm, Marcus had completely forgotten that he'd left the Warrior in his rooms. He froze on the threshold. 

Neroon, having heard the door opening, said something in the Warrior Caste language and cut the comm. He turned and, seeing Marcus, frowned. "Marcus. You are back much sooner than I expected. And you do not look well." 

Marcus met those dark eyes and his world snapped back into focus. He stepped slowly into his own rooms. Holding onto the steadiness of Neroon's gaze, he still felt uncertain. "Everything is wrong." 

Neroon crossed the room briskly and clasped his upper arms gently, drew him a half step closer. He started to say something, then stopped and reconsidered. "There is much that is wrong," he agreed. "Our lives -- all lives -- are changing. Things I have taken for granted all my life no longer seem so reliable. In time like this, we must hold onto those things which _are_ certain with all our strength. And Marcus?" Neroon smiled. "I am quite certain that I am in love with you." 

Marcus let out a long breath and managed a slight smile. "Say it again." 

Neroon let one of his hands fall to take Marcus's. "I love you," he said with quiet intensity. He raised the Ranger's hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. "Your pulse measures out the span of my life." 

Relaxing, Marcus leaned his forehead against Neroon's for a moment. "I needed to hear that," he admitted. 

"Delenn made you doubt my feelings for you." It was not a question. 

"Yes," Marcus answered anyway. He felt a slight rush of shame. "I feel so weak. I was completely certain of you, of us. But after just five minutes talking with Delenn I starting questioning everything." 

Neroon pulled back enough to look him in the eye, but slipped an arm about his waist to hold him close. "You are not weak, my Marcus. Delenn is your commander. You have given her your complete trust. She must have that from you, or you are useless as a soldier. It then becomes her responsibility to use that trust wisely." 

Marcus considered his most recent conversation with his Entil'Zha. "I am not so sure," he said reluctantly, "that I can trust her where you are concerned." 

"Marcus, I mean to be concerned with all parts of you life." 

"I know." 

They considered that silently for a moment. "How can I asked you to leave the calling of your heart for me?" Neroon whispered. 

Alarmed, Marcus tightened his grip on Neroon. "What are you thinking?" 

Neroon calmly looked him in the eye. "I am thinking that the _Ingata_ is not the only post available to me. There is not, after all, a representative of the Warrior Caste here. It would not take much to convince Caste and clan leaders to station me here." 

Marcus's mouth dropped open. "Neroon..." For a moment he couldn't speak. "Neroon, you have no friends here. You'd have to leave your command, your family, and your home to live among people who distrust you at best, hate you at worst. I can't ask for that." 

"You are not asking. I am offering." 

Marcus's expression hardened. "No," he said definitely. "You're going back with the _Ingata_." Neroon opened his mouth to protest, but Marcus pushed onward. "And I'm going with you." 

"Marcus--" 

"No," Marcus cut him off again. "I'm not giving up my calling, Neroon. I joined the Rangers because I promised my brother I would finish what he started -- his work against the Shadows. The only calling I've felt has been to find my soulmate -- to find you. Promise me I can keep on with my brother's work and I'll leave Babylon 5 with a clear heart." 

Neroon searched Marcus's face for a long moment, but he saw only determination and love there. Perhaps there would be regret later, but he could not second-guess the future. The Warrior cupped Marcus's face in his hands and answered solemnly. "I promise. And I swear that I will help you to finish that work, that you may live your life for yourself." 

"Thank you," Marcus breathed. 

Neroon kissed him then, a long kiss full of promise and hope. Marcus returned it in full measure. There was a great deal to do before he would be able to leave Babylon 5. He needed to show his allies -- his friends -- that he was sure of Neroon and that he wasn't abandoning them. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to see Delenn again, or he'd never be sure of his own instincts again. 

But for the first time the path of his life lay clearly ahead of him. Marcus had never felt so thoroughly at ease inside his own skin. It was as if he'd been slightly out of sync with himself his whole life. 

Marcus was smiling when the kiss finished. Everything was right now. 

\--End--

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I left a lot of loose ends flapping at the end there. There's a reason for that. I really need a break from the story, but I didn't want to leave an unfinished fic hanging over my head. So I brought it to what I think is a decent stopping point. I expect I'll eventually write another sequel, but first I'm going to let the muse go play with another bunny. I apologise if this feels like a cop out to you guys. I really like this list and all the folk on it. I want to do you all justice.  
>  Feel free to try and spark the muse again. //grins// You guys were absolutely instrumental in gettng this one written.


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